Why I Celebrate Thanksgiving

 Albino pumpkin

I warn you, I've gone mental. Mental for PUMPKINS. I've had a Thanksgiving pumpkin-filled weekend. It's been amazing.

Mantle Pumpkin 

I've been celebrating Thanksgiving for a while. It all started at uni when I used to live with an American and she made us all do a Thanksgiving dinner and it was a whole heap of fun. And then I went to actual America, and had ACTUAL Thanksgiving, and I was sold. I mean, a four day weekend where you literally do nothing but eat yummy food? I'll repeat that: Four days. Nothing. Yummy. EAT.

Sign me up.

Pie of Pumpkin 

And so I came to wholeheartedly embrace this quintessentially American holiday to my bosom. I have henceforth always taken that Thursday and Friday off of work and plan to continue doing so. But this year was the first year I decided that I would cook a proper authentic Thanky G feast all by myself like a GROWNUP.

Half-Eaten Pumpkin 

On the menu was a turkey, cranberry and cornbread stuffing, sweet potato with marshmallow topping, maple roasted parsnips, green bean casserole all covered in lovely turkey gravy and finished off with a pumpkin pie. I don't think there was anything on that table that didn't come into contact at some point with either maple syrup or cinnamon or both. Yum.

And I'm really impressed with my friends that they didn't run scared by some of the above (yes, that was sweet potato with MARSHMALLOW - which exploded everywhere but that's another story!), they all gave it a go. It was DEE-licious.

Munchkin Pumpkins

And it was lovely to share the feast with good friends, good wine and a good stretchy pair of pants. 

Oh yes, the pre-Christmas diet started again today. I'm already having syrup withdrawal symptoms. Hold me.

Boom Boom Boom. Even Brighter Than The Moon Moon Moon

Baby you're a firework

I love love love firework night! The bonfires, the wrapping up warm, the hot dogs, the drinking, and the fireworks. Ooh sparklers too, I almost forgot those guys.

Neon pink rain 

I find it really weird that fireworks can provoke such emotion in some people, myself included. When you see a really impressive firework display, it's such a spectacle and so dramatic. Usually a crowd of people is involved and the fireworks are there to mark an occasion so you're all there having this shared experience and it's just bloody lovely. I mean, when they let off a couple of rockets at the end of the Milton Keynes Foo Fighters gig in July I lost my shit and actually started blubbing all over my best friend. Possibly a few randoms too. Which now just seems stupid. But THAT is the power of the humble firework.

Burning leaves

But bonfire night marks the point in the year at which all things autumn are in full swing. The bonfire makes the russet and golden leaves on the trees glow so they too seem aflame. The smell of hot dogs and mulled wine is in the air, and you're all bundled up in your warmest scarves and coats, waving your sparklers (or in my case, spinny glowstick thingy) in the air like you just don't care. And the fireworks are the exclamation point to the whole evening. 

All of the lights all of the lights 

I think it's such a shame that so many of the firework displays in London haven't gone ahead this year because the council's can't afford it. Ally Pally and Clapham were cancelled. I love that we have this event in the British calender so I really hope this is just a sign of the economic times and not of the tradition dying out. I mean the American's have the fourth of July, the French have Bastille day, so this is our thing!! We need to keep it alive! With that in mind, I made my way to the other side of town to Battersea Park and I'm really glad I did, the fireworks were epic. I mean, it was super busy, and there were crazy queues for food, but I managed to snarf some hot dogs JUST before the fireworks started. Boom!

Spinner love 

Whilst the fireworks were really impressive, I thought the bonfire was a bit of a let down but then maybe that's because I seem to compare every bonfire to the EPIC BALL OF FLAME I experienced in Ottery St Mary many moons ago. That was like a 20ft beast of a fire that burnt for days, so I guess it's not really fair to have that as the yardstick. Everything's going to fall short.

 Purple rain

I hope there's more displays to choose from next year. I don't want to live in a world where we've forgotten our god-given right to, once a year, burn our (non-toxic) rubbish and let off some highly dangerous chemical explosions in the sky in an ORGANISED MANNER!! This is our tradition! Long may it reign.

Crazy Stupid Pumpkin Love

Pumpkinny wumpkinny 

Oops. It's been a while since I've written anything here. I guess I haven't been doing anything that noteworthy. Although to be honest if I have to really fully analyse the situation, I could probably chalk up at least a whole two weeks being lost to scouring the internet for photos of Ryan Gosling. If you are that way inclined, may I recommend this website.

I've been to see him in Drive (the soundtrack literally won't leave my ears) and Crazy Stupid Love this month and might be a LITTLE BIT obsessed. Honestly, I have no idea where the time goes. I could literally stare at him for hours. Excellent example of the perfect man. Well done to everybody involved. If I ever met him in the street I think the only appropriate reaction would be to give him a standing ovation. The Ides of March is the next Gosling cinematic offering and I'm already rubbing my legs in anticipation.  And don't even try and pretend you aren't too.

Next of (pump)kin

So ANYWAY. Enough of my lusting after Hollywood celebrities. What a contrast between my last post and this! Last time I was reporting from the front line of the unexpected but fully welcomed and fondly remembered late summer 2011 heatwave (RIP)... and now here we are, clocks gone back and dark evenings closing in, wrapped up warm, central heating on, surrounded by pumpkins and fake blood.

It's no secret, I love Hallowe'en. This was a love that was spurred on all the more from my experience of a full-on American 'We'en during my time in New York. I'm not sure Britain will ever quite reach those heady heights but it doesn't stop me trying year after year!

I have actually purchased a further four pumpkins of varying sizes. True story.

The past five years or so have been spent constructing elaborate costumes and getting very very (very) drunk. This year I've decided to take it easy, by purchasing a whole armful of pumpkins and getting my carve on in front of the umpteenth showing of Ghostbusters. Which to be honest, is probably more fun and with less hangover.

Altogether now: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... MASS HYSTERIA!

Run to the Beat of my Biscuits

Maritime Museum, Greenwich 

In case you didn't know.. 

This weekend I watched my best mates boyfriend, J-Man Jizzle* complete an amazing achievement - he ran the Nike Run to the Beat half marathon and we are all very very proud of him.

(*Not actual name. Name that I call him. Largely against his will)

He's training to run the London Marathon next year, and this race signifies the furthest he's ever ran so it's a huge deal.

Cheerleaders (although I think I was better AND I didn't have balloons!) 

Arms outstretched, J-Man at the 11 mile mark, only two to go! 

However, the day was not without its drama. The day was lovely and sunny, but we think the heat got to him because 150m before the end of the race, J started to slow and come to a stop. Even the encouraging screams from two old lady spectators couldn't help him. A random man (we're not sure whether it was a fellow competitor, a marshall or a member of the crowd) came to help him over the final finish line, before poor old J collapsed from heatstroke/exhaustion and had to be taken to the medical tent.

He is now fine, just needs to rest up and get lots of fluids, but it just goes to show what a huge effort it is to complete these things and how amazing it is that he crossed the line. I'm so impressed. Props. Massive props.

Greenwich Observatory, obvs

Love the smell of biscuits in the morning

Other than that dramz at the end of the race, the rest of the morning had been really fun. There's always a great atmosphere at these events - I'm a natural cheerleader of life in general, so I love that it's socially acceptable on such occasions to scream COME ON ALEXXXXX!!! in random stranger's faces. Not that I do that at any other time, OF COURSE.

I'd baked some Apple & Oatmeal cookies for our group to eat whilst we were waiting for J to appear at our vantage point at the foot of Greenwich Park, and they were just the ticket for a sunny autumnal mid-morning snack.

Leftovers

Of course I gave the majority of the cookies to J and his girlfriend (not that he could appreciate them at that point in his poorly state), but I kept a select few back for me. And they were just the ticket to soothe my aching hands (from clapping) and scratchy throat (from aforementioned stranger-face-screaming). I mean, really I worked JUST AS HARD. Right?!

No, I know: not right. I joke.

Well done J-Man Jizzle, Jam Master Jay. SO PROUD.

Faith Hope & Charity

Crypt-ic 

First off, can I just apologise profusely at the poor quality of these photos. I originally took my beloved SLR with me to document my day, which lasted approximately 30 seconds until the red flashing low battery symbol of impending camera-less doom entered my life. What an amateur.

So I was stuck with my trusty iPhone which has very recently acquired an obscene amount of scratches on the lens protector. So the photos come out all smudgy. I mean I guess I GUESS I could have tried to dupe you all into it being some Hipstamatic effect to make the photos more "arty"/"scene"/"whatever" but y'all would have seen straight through that. So instead you'll have to make do with my grovelling apologies.

Victorian Crypt Roof 

So what is all this? Where have I been? What are the smudges obscuring from your eyes? I know. Sit down, take a load off and I'll begin.

Yesterday I decided to venture up the long steep winding hill to Highgate Cemetery. Highgate has a fascinating history, but is probably most famous for being the final resting place of Karl Marx. The Friends of Highgate Cemetery Trust run daily tours of the west side of the cemetery.

Marble sleeping lion, marking the grave of George Wombwell, a famed Victorian menagerie exhibitor 

The first thing to note about Highgate is that it is so beautiful and peaceful. In the past, cemeteries have always kind of creeped me out - all those regimented rows of stone markers often under the shadow of a foreboding church. But Highgate is a romantic woodland, almost a fairytale environment. That sounds a strange thing to say, but it's an enchanting place, and I didn't feel at all uneasy. The tour guide we had explained, interestingly, that it hasn't always been like that. When Highgate first began, everything was very austerely manicured - but over time more and more trees have been planted, ivy has overgrown and nature has taken over.

Final resting place of Tom Sayers, a renowned Victorian bare knuckle fighter, with a marble carving of his trusty dog, Lion 

Our guide pointed out a handful of the noted examples of the thousands of graves at Highgate. Some of the most beautiful I tried (badly - again SO SORRY for the smudges) to photograph. There was the grave of the famous Victorian menagerie exhibitor George Wombwell. He famously owned a lion, called Nero, who was apparently so placid, children could ride on his back without fear. His tomb has a huge carving of a sleeping Nero on top.

I also thought the grave of a famous Victorian bare knuckle fighter, Tom Sayers, was particularly poignant. It had a marble carving of his dog, Lion, who went everywhere with him and was (get this) chief mourner at his funeral. He died a hero due to a famous fight with an American champion of the day which was so long and so bloody that it had to be called off and declared a draw as neither would quit, and Lion is depicted sleeping at the foot of his tomb. I'm a sucker for anything to do with dogs, so this stuck out in my mind.

Sleeping angel carved out of marble

This final tomb, you can just about make out in the terrible terrible photo (AWFUL) the form of a sleeping angel. This is unusual - normally the angels are carved so that they are standing over the graves. This angel has been carved sleeping on a cloud. You can't really tell from my photo, but it's very intricate and very beautiful.

There's an awful lot of history at Highgate, as it's been a working cemetery since 1839. If you've never been and are into that kind of thing it's a really interesting way to spend an afternoon. The ivy and overgrowth that make it so special are also unfortunately destroying the tombstones - the Friends of Highgate have a painstaking ongoing programme of work carried out by volunteers to restore those badly in need of repair and the main source of income for this comes from donations and tour fees. So please do go and visit.

And take better photos than me.

Tea and Cake

Tea, cake, flowers. Win. 

Haven't baked any cakes for a couple of months (and my waistline has not just thanked me but rejoiced, holding a party in my honour, because of it). But fear not waistline - I am giving most (save half of one cake - yes, saintlike I know) of this batch away to OTHER PEOPLE. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

 Behind the scenes trivia: Noone actually drunk that cup of tea. It was for show only. I'M SUCH A FRAUD.

I've been wanting to try out the Hummingbird Earl Grey Tea Cupcake recipe for a while. And what with this being the last weekend we can really get away with feeling summery until next year (its knits, tights, bundling up warm, and cold extremities from now until March people!), and I feel the subtle light flavouring is more suited to warmer days, I decided to have a bash at these now, before it's too late and all I crave in a cupcake are cinammon, ginger and big bold Christmassy tastes.

Now, disclaimer: I don't actually LIKE tea. I know, I know. But I'm much more of a coffee girl, what can I say - slave to the bean. ...it's part of the reason why New York was such a good idea for me. They, like I, live off the stuff.

Behind the scenes trivia: The cakes got eaten though. Not by me you understand. Nope.

Having said that, I am living proof that you don't have to like tea (let alone Earl Grey tea) to love these cakes.

The Earl Grey flavour (lemony, bergamoty, tea-y(?)) is really subtle, light and refreshing and just seems to go so well with the plain sponge and butter frosting.

Just the ticket for the last summer Sunday afternoon. (When it rained. Predictably).

But I Couldn't Find The Broom Cupboard

 TVC

This weekend I went to visit the famous doughnut-shaped BBC Television Centre, which has played home to nearly all of your favourite British shows of TV history past, and also still some of your current faves. Strictly Come Dancing (which comes live from Studio 1, the back wall of which is in the above photo with 'Television Centre' on), Blue Peter, BBC News, Live & Kicking (and Going Live!), and the Broom Cupboard (anyone remember that!?!) and countless sit-coms and chat shows were all filmed here, the list goes on and on and on.

The site is currently up for sale, as part of measures to address a lack of spending cash-dollar in the BBC, which I think is a real shame given its rich history - but as its days are numbered, what better time to partake in a tour of the building?

 Bring Me Sunshine

The tour is really interesting, you get to see inside the news centre, inside Studio 1 and explained all the ridiculous intricacies of how to set up the custom built studios for a live set. They also give you the chance to see some of their star dressing rooms as well, and hear some of the stories of the countless stars the centre has played host to since the 60s.

Sadly, however, you don't get to see the Broom Cupboard. Or Edd the Duck. I know I know, but don't let that put you off!

 The Helios statue in the center of the doughnut

I mean, more than anything it was such a thrill to stand in the same concrete halls that some of the world's most famous people have been to. The tour guides had loads of stories of some of the craaazy things those celebs get up to. Mariah Carey apparently requested a box of puppies as part of her rider once, so she could stroke them to "relax" before her appearance - AMAZING. Totes on the same page with that idea. However, the good old BBC politely declined to provide. Wish I could have seen that conversation.

Studio 1 - The same studio doors the lovely couples of Strictly burst through straight after performing their dances! 

The building is very much of its time - it reminded me in many ways of my old school building, with classic 60s fixtures and fittings. In fact I'm pretty sure they could have got away with filming Grange Hill in the TV Centre corridors, it's definitely got that vibe. But the datedness of the building just serves to remind you of just HOW MUCH history is sitting within those walls. It's fascinating.

 Blue Peter, the world's longest running children's show - the studio board from the last time it was filmed at TVC this summer. It's now moved to the BBC studios in Manchester

The tour also gives you the chance to flex your presenting muscles and test your TV charm. You get to have a go at using the technology that is used to present the weather (so confusing!), and also get the chance to volunteer at using a dummy studio to present the news! My trusty housemate KINDLY volunteered me, and then videoed it, but there's is no way on God's green earth that anyone else is ever seeing that. Let's just say, I ain't no Moira Stuart.

Back of Studio 1

I kept my eye out for any famous faces that might have been working there that day, but as it was a weekend it was quieter than normal and I was out of luck. In hindsight I really should have booked for a Saturday once Strictly is back up and running again, as all the cast would then be in the building rehearsing for that evening's show - GODDAMMIT! Maybe I'll go again - the tours are only a tenner, so really cheap fun thing to do, so I highly recommend going before it is sold and it's too late!

So, I've Knitted A Crop Top...

 Wrap Stitch Shoulder

Yes. I've knitted a crop top. A. Cropped. Top. Probably technically about half a top. For me to wear on my own limbs. As someone who until fairly recently had been carrying a significant amount of extra poundage around (I'd been calling it 'holiday weight' for about 5 years - it was time to get real) this is a pretty big deal.

Excuse the shit* on the end of my bed (*not actual shit) 

I mean I'm still not rake thin or anything (who wants to be?!) but it actually isn't quite so much the sartorial nightmare I had started to fear it would be.

I mean there's a few rules that I've self imposed to make sure it doesn't look ridiculous ('Pair with high waisted stuff ONLY' being one of them - noone needs to get an eyeful of my blindingly white untoned stomach) but I kind of like it.

High waist = minimal blindingly white stomach

The pattern was another Kim Hargreaves from her most recent Spring/Summer collection, called Sizzle. Not sure if that's a reference to how SIZZLING HOT I look in it (haha, I jest, I jest).

I was drawn to it because the pattern has stripes of wrap stitch detailing in, which are the bands of the wider spaced stitches you can see. The sizes of the wrap stitches are randomly varied, which gives a kinda sorta laddered effect to the fabric that I really liked and was really eager beaver to try my hand at. Turns out it's super easy.

Totally photoshopped the tanned skin. I need a holiday. I realise this is irrelevant.

So I have about two weeks to wear this until summer is technically over and flesh-flashing becomes inappropriate and BANNED for another 6/7 months. But hey, when you hand-knit stuff this shit takes time.

But pretty pleased overall - I wear cropped tops now. And a KNITTED one at that. I literally never thought I'd see the day.

The Success of Frozen Yoghurt as a Cultural Phenomenon

Frae = yay! 

There are quite a few places you can get frozen yoghurt in London these days (including the recently imported to Selfridges foodhall from the US, Pinkberry - an NY fave). It's a fairly new phenomenon in the UK with various local chains popping up, but my favourite - mainly because it doesn't have a hideous name (take note, Snog and Yog) is Frae.

Fro-yo, bro 

So why, is everyone all like, 'Dudes, Fro-yo is the best thing since sliced bread. Mr Whippy is sooo passe'?

Well, I've thought about it, and I'm here to explain. Frozen yoghurt is pretty much the best thing you can eat on a hot summers day (Ha! In London? If only. See: outside my window) for the following reasons: 1) It's delicious and 2) It's fat free. Yes, fat free. It's DELICIOUS and it's FAT FREE. These two things almost never happen at the same time, and for that, I do believe frozen yoghurt to be one of the best things on this earth. I will forever wonder why this invention didn't take off sooner.

Oreos & chocolate chips

Of course, the choice of toppings that you add can drastically reduce your smug angelic 'ooh, aren't I being good and stuff' glow, but even with a few chocolate chips and mini Oreos its a much healthier alternative to your traditional ice cream, and just as nice.

Demolished within approx 10 seconds of this photo being taken 

I highly recommend, for anyone dipping their toe in this concept, the Frae on Camden Passage in Islington. It's perfectly located for a dessert after a meal at a local eaterie or a pitstop midway through pottering around the gorgeous vintage shops in the area, or even just because.

In fact, mostly just because - let this be a lesson to you. There is NO SHAME in planning your entire day around frozen yoghurt. Once you try it, you'll understand. You'll understand and you'll thank me.

Why Amy Winehouse Was So Frigging Brilliant

Bye Bye Winehouse (Photo credit)

It's been just over a week now since the news broke of Amy Winehouse's death in her beloved Camden residence. As of yet, we still don't know the exact hows and whys, but one thing will remain true regardless. It was a tragic end to the troubled life of one of this countries best talents of recent years.

Like undoubtedly many others I've spent a lot of time this week revisiting the pinnacle of her career, the Back To Black album. The album was released in the autumn of 2006. I was entering my third year at uni, and I had just had the worst summer of my life. I'd had my first (and only) bitter taste of heartbreak after a messy breakup with my first serious boyfriend of three years.

I just remember this album being around, and Winehouse had tapped in to the pure unadulterated despair of a broken heart. This girl knew those dark thoughts that swirl around the minds of the jilted, knew the self-destructive pain of rejection. You don't want me, I'm a mess, noone will want me, I become the mess and the vicious circle keeps spinning in a horrible self-fulfilling prophecy. This album was amongst the soundtrack of that time for me, and as often happens with great music, somehow listening to it made me feel that I was not alone. It helped me to start feeling better.

I watched a documentary the other night on Amy's life and I can't remember what channel it was on but it talked about her entrance essay for stage school at 12 or 13 where she wrote that her ambition was for people to hear her voice and just forget their troubles. Well, she certainly did that for so many people myself included, and it is just the saddest saddest thing that she was not able to do that for herself.

She clearly led a troubled existence towards the end of her life, living out some truely awful scenes in the public eye, both on stage and off.

But I'll always remember her for her raw special talent and her ability to sing with her broken heart on her sleeve and make magic. She had her issues, but when she had it together she was so frigging brilliant.

And I hope that's how she'll keep being remembered.

Baking Hot Bake Day (aka How I Stupidly Agree To Things & Then Do Them, Stupidly)

Chocolatey goodness 

Wowee what a scorcher! Today in London, it has been super mega hot. I've been sweating like a hott mess today - mainly due to the production of these beauties, a classic Hummingbird recipe, natch.

Stupidly, STUPIDLY I agreed to bake some cakes for someone's birthday at work on Tuesday. I'm busy tomorrow night, so it meant that I spent this afternoon slaving away over a hot oven to crack out these chocolate bad-asses.

I know, I know. I am nothing if not selfless.

 Get ready for your close up

I convinced myself it was a great idea to try and use all the batter I had to fill 12 cases even though I knew deep down I was overfilling. I know, what an idiot.

So it meant that they all exploded out of their cases. Which meant I then had to trim them all to a normal size with a knife and hide all evidence of my handiwork with oodles of frosting.

I then stupidly proceeded to go ahead and make far too much frosting. So basically I have a bunch of cut off cake bits, and a whole cup of leftover frosting sitting in my fridge right now. I'm calling it "Chocolate Cupcake: Deconstructed" and serving it up as such to my unsuspecting housemate.

Coffee and Cake. 

But it's ok, because only you and I will EVER KNOW. I think I've done a good job of hiding my stupidity on this occasion. Now don't go telling anyone.

The Brunchfast Club: Kentish Canteen

Of course, the coffee was mine. 

YES! It's a new post about brunch! High fives everyone! I know I know, I've missed it too.

As a new resident of North London, the main benefit of this, (aside from the vastly reduced commute to work) is the multitude of yummy exciting eateries within easy reach.

Salads and tings 

Last weekend, in need of brunch-like sustenance, housemate and I decided to check out Kentish Canteen on the recommendation of our new pretend BFF/obsession Giles Coren.

Mere metres from the tube station, Kentish Canteen offers a pared down simple menu with all the usual brunch suspects available. As soon as you walk in, the theme of homage to the NW5 locale is prevalent, announcing the postcode in huge letters above the door, and the wall dedicated to large arty photography of the surrounding area.

Cakies 

I'm a huge advocate of local eateries versus chain restaurants, so I liked that this place takes its inspiration from good old K Town, which has that London-village type feel. When done well, this approach can create and enhance the neighbourhood feeling and create a real community space, and when centred around good honest food done well, I'm a big fan.

Eggs Royale 

So yes, the food. Housemate and I both went for various egg/hollandaise based dishes - I the Eggs Royale, and he the Eggs Florentine. We both agreed that the hollandaise sauce was amongst the best we'd had. Rich and velvety, it went beautifully with the perfectly poached eggs.

Poached eggs - action shot 

I thought I'd also make a point about the service. I noticed amongst reviews I've seen that while generally the food has got the tick in the box, there are a few negative comments around the service received. As far as I could tell while I was there, the service was absolutely fine. The staff were friendly, and even offered us our second drinks for free as there was a slight delay in our eggs coming out (to put this in context, I hadn't noticed there was a delay at all - so it must have been very very slight as I am notoriously impatient when it comes to food!).

Mid-brulee 

After eating my delicious Eggs Royale, I was starting to feel a little full. But then I locked eyes with the specials board. 'Lavander Creme Brulee!' it declared. That is nothing if not a call to action, I was powerless, POWERLESS to resist. There are few greater pleasures in life than tapping the top of a pristine creme brulee caramel top until it cracks into those gorgeous golden shards of sugar glass, like some kind of stained glass window of a gingerbread house. I defy anyone to be able to pass that opportunity by.

Housemate and I decided to share, given our full stomach situations and I'm very glad we did as it was HUGE.

HUGE but delicious. I'm very fussy when it comes to creme brulee: as we all know when done well it can be but heaven itself. But if the skill is not there, it can be a big fat mess.

No mess here, the top was perfectly caramelised, with a smooth rich creamy vanilla custard underneath with just a hint of the subtle lavender which gave it a lovely flavour.

Rosy

And so, with that lovely post-brunch full-stomach fug looming over me, I left Kentish Canteen with a happy belly. And I will most definitely be returning.